


Anadiplosis (or Helia Potter and the Other-One-Who-Lived)

by RareAvian



Series: Hydra Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Twins, Dubious Morality, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Harry Potter Has a Twin, Helia Potter was Hadria Potter in her past life, Humor, Master of Death Harry Potter, Not gonna tag all the characters that appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RareAvian/pseuds/RareAvian
Summary: Helia had been having a holiday when she was informed that the Higher Entities would like it very much if she could join an alternate universe. They informed her she would have a twin brother. She could have refused, but it sounded interesting."Accompany Harry Potter," They said."It'll be fulfilling," They said.But there was one thing they did not say.i.e.Hadria ends up in an alternate universe on a whim, and is reborn as Helia Potter, twin sister of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. This is Hadria's take on the Other-Boy-Who-Lived trope.Except... is he really the Boy-Who-Lived? Fate laughs, again.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle
Series: Hydra Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/662591
Comments: 64
Kudos: 349
Collections: Lost in Time Potter?, The Harry Potters





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was written for NaNoWriMo 2018, and although I was supposed to finish it during that period of time, I did not. In fact, I am far from finished. However, I do not know if I will ever complete it. So I've decided to just share what I've written. I hope you guys will enjoy these sketchy drafts of a story. It's un-beta-ed and really more skeleton than flesh and blood.
> 
> Should there be anyone out there who wants to make an attempt at continuing it, or expanding on it, just drop me a PM or a review/comment, and we can discuss the adoption.
> 
> And one more thing: Although Hadria is featured here under another name, you can assume that this is not Danse-Macabre-canon. (It is, however, a possibility that this happens post-Danse-Macabre.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

When Dumbledore arrives at the scene, only Hagrid is there, carrying a baby in each arm. The house—or what's left of it—is behind him, smouldering and still spitting sparks from its charred wood. The wards around the house lay in tatters like a cloth reduced to loose threads.

"The babies, they're unharmed?" Dumbledore asked. He glanced at the burnt hand sticking out from a pile of blackened wood, and felt sorrow for the young man he had once taught. Young Lily was no doubt buried somewhere else in the rubble.

Hagrid sniffled as he showed him the babies wrapped in their blankets. Not a single edge of cloth was burnt.

"Sirius f-found 'em in their crib," he hiccuped. "Little 'Arry was wailing so 'ard. But 'Elia was so quiet, we almost thought she was d-dead."

Harry was the boy in Hagrid's left arm. He was asleep now, with a small scrunched up face, having cried himself to sleep. A jagged cut—dark red with dried blood—etched upon his brow. Helia was the girl in Hagrid's right arm, still awake and blinking up at Dumbledore with large green eyes, unusually quiet, for she was usually the noisier, rowdier one of the two.

But then again, she was completely unharmed by the night's events, while her twin brother was going to have a scar on his forehead.

" _Marked_ ," Dumbledore murmured to himself. So this was the child chosen by Voldemort. This was the Child of Prophesy.

For a moment, Dumbledore contemplated bringing the child home with him. He could teach him all he knew, train him to become powerful. Harry would follow in his footsteps and defeat a Dark Lord.

But there was the Prophecy. And Dumbledore did not need another great wizard like himself. He just needed... a boy who would walk to his own death and in doing so, seal the fate of one Tom Marvolo Riddle.

So baby Harry Potter was delivered to the Dursley's doorsteps, and Helia Potter, well, she was put into a Muggle orphanage.

On one hand, Dumbledore needed a backup. Another Potter who would be willing to do what her brother could not if her brother were to fail. Placing her in a non-magical less-than-ideal environment would be best. On the other hand, he didn't want the twins to form too close a bond. A bond meant Dumbledore and his people wouldn't be the first kindness they received. A bond meant they'd have someone else to share their experiences with magic. A bond meant a close relationship that Dumbledore could not afford just yet.

What Dumbledore forgot, or perhaps never thought about in the first place, was that young children left in the care of Muggles with low tolerance for magic and the unnatural, tend to be more inclined to the Dark. For there is freedom in the Dark, and spite for the Muggles that had scorned them.

McGonagall tried to persuade Dumbledore, but he did not listen. Hagrid even offered to look after the little kids—his only job was groundskeeper at the time anyway—but no one would trust him to bring up a pair of children rather than a pair of little beasties. And Sirius, the grief-stricken man, was thrown into Azkaban for a crime he did not commit.

"Sirius, 'e's innocent, right?" Hagrid asked McGonagall, after everything was over. She glanced at him, lips set in a stern line.

"Possibly," she replied with an edge to her voice. "But a possibility isn't enough with what we're up against."

"What—What are we up agains'?"

McGonagall did not answer as her flint-hard eyes left Hagrid's to stare at the retreating back of an old flamboyantly-dressed wizard. Hagrid followed her gaze and shifted on the spot.

"But—"

And in that moment, Hagrid thought as he quailed under McGonagall's glare, that it was a very good thing that only a Basilisk's eyes could kill.


	2. Act 1 Part 1: Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each of these chapters will be shorter than what I usually write, and as I've mentioned before, it won't be as filling as Danse Macabre. In fact, there are very few chapters written. Including the prologue, I think I only have... four?

Helia Potter is nine years old when she finally gets to meet her twin brother for the first time.

He's pale and skinny, with a mop of unruly black hair and eyes the same Killing-Curse-green as her. But for how malnourished he looked, his face, bearing and gaze betrayed a Pureblood-worthy upbringing.

 _Self-trained?_ Helia wondered. _But how?_

Harry Potter is nine years old when he finally meets the twin sister he never knew he had.

She's small—or _looks_ small—because her hair is a halo of red, falling in blood-coloured waves to her waist and flaring everywhere, and her eyes are large enough to make her face seem thinner than it is. There are freckles too, peppered over the bridge of her nose and all over her cheeks.

Harry thought she looks less like Lily Evans and more like what 'Lily Evans' would look like if she had been swapped as a child with a fairy changeling.

They met in a small orphanage at the edge of Surrey, an old brick-and-stone building that had moss growing over the walls and grass thriving out of the cracks in the ground. The matron was also the headmistress of a primary school and was gone most days. Instead, the cook and the nurse were the ones who ran the orphanage, which also explained half the shenanigans the children there would get up to.

"That's Lizzy, the Mushroom Girl," said Helia, as they looked out the window at the children playing in the field. They were waiting for the cook to settle the paperwork for Harry's arrival at the orphanage.

"Mushroom Girl," Harry repeated incredulously.

"She eats mushrooms, all sorts of mushrooms, even the poisonous ones. Miss Moor hates her most," Helia explained. Miss Moor was the nurse. "And that's Samuel over there. We call him Stinger Sam because he keeps stealing all of Miss Moor's needles and likes to threaten people to listen up or he'll give us a jab."

"Kyle's the chubbiest because he's always helping Mr Hummer in the kitchens and likes to steal a bite out of everything they make."

"Cassie and Jill, they're twins too. They make the best pies, better than Mr Hummer, in fact. But you've got to be careful, because if you cross them, your dessert's gonna make you go as green-faced as Lizzy."

"And you?" Harry asked. His twin sister has got the same damned twinkle in her eyes as that old bearded codger.

"Me?" Helia laughed. "I don't exist."

When Mr Hummer returned to lead Harry to his room, a room he supposedly had all to himself, the cook never once turned to look at Helia. Harry's room had two beds, and when he asked Mr Hummer about it, he's told that nobody uses that one, despite the fact that all of Helia's belongings—hand-me-down books and toys and clothes—were strewn all over the bed, floor and really, every available surface.

Helia laughed at Harry's look of disgust.

"I can neaten up, if you'd like."

"Please do," said Harry. But at least there wasn't a smell.

There was a glint in her eyes and a smirk. Then everything in the room rose into the air and packed themselves into neat piles. The clothes were even folded properly with hardly a crease out of place.

Harry knew Helia couldn't possibly be a Squib. That was clear the moment he learnt that no one in the orphanage actually remembered who Helia was. That could be attributed to some form of accidental magic manifested as a constant defensive mind-washing. But he certainly didn't expect this level of magical control.

Did being female and Mark-less change things? Was it the result of staying in an orphanage? Harry was certain that as ridiculously lucky and troublesome 'Harry Potter' was, he hadn't been a genius. Unlike himself.

"What else can you do?" Harry asked.

 _Demanded_ , Helia thought to herself. Did being male change things? She didn't remember herself being this rude to people she just met, not in either of her lives, especially not when she had been fresh out of the Dursleys.

* * *

Things had changed drastically.

Helia was used to drastic changes, she was practically a magnet for the unpredictable after all, and had lived two lifetimes, the second of which was already very different from the first considering how she had basically been kidnapped by a former Dark Lord at the age of five and did not get the full Dursley experience that time around.

And this time, it wasn't like she was completely unprepared for it. The Higher Entities _had_ informed her she was going to have a twin brother. Why she was going to have a twin brother and what it had to do with anything, she was not told. She had been having a nice holiday when she was informed that They would like it very much if she could join this alternate universe. She could have refused, but it sounded interesting.

So Helia knew she was going to have a twin brother. That obviously changed things.

Then things changed further. While both children had received their mother's protection, Harry was the one Voldemort first cast the Killing Curse at. Which resulted in such a spectacular explosion that set fire to the house and almost razed it to the ground and only the accidental magic of one of them had saved them from being burnt alive as well.

Harry got the Mark, and became the Boy-Who-Lived. Helia's own Sigel-mark was practically invisible, since it was soul-deep, tied to her since her first life, rather than the Horcrux-engraving scar that Harry now had.

Then one of them ended up in an orphanage while the other went to the Dursleys, before _both_ of them ended up in the same orphanage. And _both_ of them had remarkable magical control for a pair of magically-uneducated children.

Helia knew magic, that wasn't news to her. It was hard not to know magic when this was her third life as a Potter and a Favourite of the Higher Entities. But Harry? Harry who could talk to snakes and brainwash the other children and what was basically charms and transfiguration and...

"You can... fly." Helia wondered if this was how Gellert had felt when he first caught her trying to make her own mode of magical transport after she realised he didn't trust her enough to buy her a broom.

"Can't you?" Harry replied from where he was floating a whole metre off the ground, one eyebrow raised mockingly.

Helia blinked, wondering which Slytherin she had seen that very familiar expression on before.

"I can make things fly or conjure things that fly, then use them," she replied. She's tried flying unaided before, but didn't like the feeling of it. It felt... like she was in the air by sheer willpower—in some sense, she was only in the air by pure will—and _that_ had felt too dangerous. As much as her friends liked to call her reckless or lacking in self-preservation, she wasn't actually suicidal.

"Show me," said Harry. It wasn't uncommon for Harry to say things like they were an order, as Helia had soon realised. Sometimes, she listened, other times she would stick her tongue out and blow a raspberry at him.

This time, she rolled her shoulders and two gigantic raven-black wings that sprouted from her back. With a single strong flap, they lifted her off the ground.

The incredulous look on Harry's face was priceless.

"How is that any different from just flying?"

Helia shrugged. "I can imagine flying with wings better than flying without." What she did not say was that the wings she had weren't really magicked out of thin air. Because then she would have to explain why she had the natural ability to materialise wings. Wings that were black, would always be black, even if she wanted them to be red or white or any other colour really.

But it was the flying that clued her in. No one should have such mastery of magic when they were only ten, not unless they were an old soul, and even then... Dumbledore hadn't managed it. People whose Animagus forms were birds hadn't managed it.

There was only one wizard Helia knew to be able to fly unaided.

* * *

Shortly before the Potter twins turned eleven, Dumbledore turned up at the orphanage.

Harry, who wasn't really Harry, not anymore and perhaps never was, was sorely tempted to behave in the exact way that Tom Riddle had behaved in the past.

Helia, who knew Harry wasn't Harry but had chosen to feign ignorance, was sorely tempted to knock her twin out—the physical way—lest he do something stupid and get the both of them in Dumbledore's bad book.

"We're not telling him we can talk to snakes," she said instead, the moment they saw a colourfully-robed long-bearded old man walking up the driveway.

She didn't need to use Legilimency to read Harry's look of How-Can- _You_ -Speak-Parseltongue. He has been wearing the same face every time she speaks to snakes. Understandable, since neither of them was a descendant of Slytherin, though Harry was supposedly a Horcrux while Helia wasn't.

_(Now that was a thought: If Harry was not Harry, and was instead Tom Riddle, could he still be a Horcrux of himself?)_

Obviously Harry couldn't voice any objections since unless he were to reveal the reason for his Parseltongue-fluency, there was no reason to wonder why his twin sister could do something as well as he could. And Helia wasn't about to mention that she knew what he was thinking or that she could actually speak quite a number of languages, including Gobbledegook and Mermish.

"No showing off about any of our skills actually," Helia continued. Harry blinked at her balefully.

"What if he sets fire to our wardrobe?"

It's a perfectly legitimate question, considering the circumstances, even though Helia recalled that last time, Dumbledore had lit up Tom's wardrobe because of his 'trophies'. This time, perhaps due to her presence, Tom was more preoccupied with picking her apart than frightening the other children.

" _If_ he sets anything of ours on fire, we will then simply be so distressed that we'll accidentally set his beard on fire," said Helia, which pleased Harry immensely.

* * *

Harry was on his best behaviour, and Helia handled most of the talking. Dumbledore didn't even seem to question it when she claimed her 'non-existence' was due to her feeling it would be best to go unnoticed, playing up on the scared-child-psychological factor. Helia got him to allow them both to visit Diagon Alley by themselves, without any burning wardrobes or other conflict.

But while Harry thought Helia would make a fine Slytherin, Helia was wondering about the chances of getting them both into Hufflepuff. It might get Dumbledore off their backs. Might.

* * *

The only time the twins separated was when they stopped by the shop selling owls. Helia ran off, claiming she saw something interesting, and told him to look for an owl without her. Harry wasn't one to listen to orders, but he had soon realised that—short of knocking her out either with a Stunner or a plain old bat— there was no stopping Helia when she wanted something. (The Imperius did not work on her. He tried).

Later, after Harry picked the fiercest bird he could find, which was ironically the snowy owl he knew Harry Potter had once upon a time, Helia met him outside the store with a huge black dog. It was close to the size of a wolf, and had eyes that were as green as theirs.

"This is Scáth," said Helia. She didn't seem to care that Hogwarts would not allow her to bring such a large 'pet' with her.

* * *

(While it was unsurprising for them both to get brother wands, if only because they were not only twins, but _Potter_ twins, Harry was still somewhat bemused to get the same holly-and-Phoenix-feather wand that real-Harry would have gotten. Helia's was just as alarmingly surprising because she got an elder-and-Phoenix-feather wand. It also did not escape their notice that this time around, Fawkes gave three feathers rather than two).

* * *

The twins met their future friends on the train, except Harry would say he didn't have _friends_ , while Helia began to wonder if it would be easier to turn these children into followers, worshippers, rather than friends, considering her 'brother's personality.

Ron Weasley was immediately put off by Harry's cold attitude. Well, Helia didn't expect them to get along anyway. On the other hand, the meeting with Hermione Granger went slightly better, if only because she was more concerned about fitting into the Wizarding world and helping Neville find his toad than Harry's glaring.

Speaking of Neville Longbottom, the boy was frightened into stutters when Harry greeted him like a Pureblood. Helia was sure he did it on purpose to mess with the poor boy.

Then there was Draco Malfoy and his two minions. Helia has hoped Harry would at least attempt to get along with a fellow potential Slytherin, but he simply turned to the window and ignored them when Helia invited the blonde boy in for a chat.

"Don't mind him," she told Draco. "He's had a bad day."

What she didn't say was that she suspected he had been having bad days ever since he ended up in the body of his sworn enemy. For a proud Slytherin, he wasn't very good at making full use of the opportunity presented to him either. After all, what better way to attack the Light than to enter their fold as a wolf in sheepskin? But she knew that given the chance, he'd antagonise Dumbledore to no end. He really could try harder to make sure Dumbledore didn't suspect anything about him this time around.

Helia resigned herself to be the charming one.

Then again, there were girls who would supposedly fancy the dark and brooding type, right?

* * *

According to alphabetical order, Harry came before Helia. So "Potter, Harry" was called up before Helia was. Unfortunately for Helia, it meant that she couldn't influence the Hat into Sorting them into the House she wanted.

Shortly after the Hat fell upon Harry's head and covered his eyes, it declared, "Ravenclaw!"

Privately, in Harry's mind, the Hat sighed, _You're not as cunning as you once were. The Killing Curse must have changed you._

Harry wasn't sure which Killing Curse the Hat was referring to, but he was more disturbed by the fact that he wasn't going to Slytherin.

He glanced at his 'sister' and saw her suppressing a laugh.

"Potter, Helia," was next. She took four whole minutes, during which she debated with the Hat about which House she should be Sorted into.

Gryffindor was her first home. Slytherin her second. The question was whether she should... try a new House, so to speak.

She followed her 'brother' into Ravenclaw.

It became known to everyone, through rumours and gossip, like every other news in the castle, that the Potter twins, unlike the Weasley twins, were not only quiet and calm and a little mature for their age, but they were also utterly brilliant at magic.

Mind you, this was _before_ either of them had cast a single spell in front of their schoolmates.

* * *

Helia made friends easily. Perhaps knowing these children for two lifetimes helped. They were different, of course, alternate universes tend to do that, but they were similar too.

Monday morning, first day of school, Helia left the Ravenclaw table and slid into the seat between Hermione and Neville as if she belonged there. In a way, she did.

Harry was rather disgruntled to realise his 'sister' had essentially left him alone at the Ravenclaw table because he refused to have any unnecessary interaction with Gryffindors.

"Make some friends," she suggested. Harry didn't want friends. People were fickle. Best friends could turn their backs when they get blinded by greed and jealousy. And friends who aren't as close could be easily swayed by popular opinion.

It wasn't until Helia pointed at Dumbledore and asked him, "Why do you think people follow him?"

"He's not just a powerful wizard," she said. "He's a hero. People look up to him. Even if there's slander, there will still be many who consider him the greatest wizard ever. _That_ , requires being popular. _That_ , requires 'friends'."

Actually, it would be ideal for 'Harry' if everyone were to blindly worship him like Bellatrix. But that wasn't quite possible, so he'd have to take the other route. And he would have a twin sister who would be guiding him the whole way.

Not creepy or weird at all. Nope. After all it's not like his 'sister' is actually an immortal soul that served as the Higher Entities' Ambassador.

"Accompany Harry Potter," They said.

"It'll be fulfilling," They said.

"He's actually the second coming of the Dark Lord," They did not say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for now. Part 2 will be posted tomorrow.
> 
> And now I present, the alternative summary of this story:
> 
> Tom Riddle does not expect to be reincarnated, let alone reincarnated as Harry Potter. He has a twin sister, who turns out to be the reincarnation of a female Chosen One from another universe, who is also only too happy to shove the title of Saviour of the Wizarding World to him, just for the shits and giggles.


	3. Act 1 Part 2: Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's short for Helia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I always wondered... What would happen if I put Hadria in a WBWL fic? I'm not sure if you've read those kind of fics before, but if you have, you should have a general idea of the few ways the story usually progresses. I used to love to read them tbh, and a whole bunch of other fic types, but then I got tired.
> 
> So I threw Hadria into such an AU, and couldn't resist throwing TMR as well. Which is how we got here.
> 
> Enjoy, I guess XD

Harry hated Quirrell. He hadn't thought about how annoying the man was before, not until now. Said Professor was stuttering through the class, and Harry, who, being an exemplary student, knew the syllabus like the back of his hand, also knew that the stuttering man barely covered half of what he should have covered in one lesson.

"You can't kill him," said Helia from his side. She wasn't paying attention to class; rather, she was writing a circle of foreign letters on a scrap piece of paper.

"I said nothing about killing anyone." Indeed, he had not once mention anything about harming anyone. After all, Helia would somehow always remind him to be nice before he ever got the chance to voice anything of the sort. If there was any talk about harming people, Helia would always be the first to bring it up.

"There's murder in your eyes," she said, waving a dismissive hand in his direction, not even looking up from her scribbles. It was times like these where Harry would wonder if this mind-reading thing was a twin thing, except that it was rather one-sided, and well, they weren't actually twins.

The thing about Helia was that she was very expressive. Whether she was sulking, or excited, or feeling lazy, it showed on her face and in her body language. However, this was what made it hard to read her. She behaved simply and sincerely, like she had nothing to hide.

Diggory, ( _the Spare_ , a voice whispered in his mind), said Helia was refreshing. Others shared his sentiment.

Only Harry realised that this behaviour, and this understanding of her personality, made it easier for her to hide her thoughts when she needed to. The polite masks of the Purebloods could not compare.

* * *

They had Potions with the Hufflepuffs.

"You can't kill him," Helia whispered when Snape swept in like a Dementor. It was likely a technique used to frighten the children into obedience.

Not that it affected Helia, whose whole face was radiating amusement.

Not that it affected him, since all he felt when he saw the spy was an intense desire to call Nagini on him again. But he didn't have Nagini, and Scáth was really more like a stray cat that came and went as it pleases. And Scáth, the magical and possibly mythical cryptid in the shape of a dog, didn't listen to him anyway.

(Harry didn't even want to know how Helia found the dog and made it her familiar. Helia wasn't about to tell him the 'dog' was actually a Grim. Neither was she going to tell him why a Grim would listen to her.)

"Don't tell me you don't want to kill him?" Harry hissed back. Snape was making it very easy to dislike him, with his blatant displeasure at the Potter twins, especially Harry. Possibly because Harry looked more like the man's childhood bully, while Helia looked more like his unrequited love.

"I'm eleven," said Helia, as if age mattered in committing murder. As if she didn't periodically swing between acting like a seven-year-old and a seventy—or seven-hundred—year-old. As if she hadn't written a whole essay about the uses of Blood Magic for fun. As if she didn't trade jokes with the Gringotts goblins about the most gruesome ways one could deal with thieves and intruders.

"A split soul is no joke, _Harry_ ," Helia said quietly, in a rare moment of utter seriousness, her face serene but her eyes cold. It was in times like these that Harry wondered how she knew what she seemed to know.

It made Harry _fear_. Something deep within him, something instinctual, screamed at him to flee. To run. To escape from the unknown thing that wore the face of Helia Potter.

Once upon a time, he might have attempted to kill what he was threatened by. He did so, twice, and failed both times. This was why he never thought about pointing a wand at Helia Potter. This was why he sometimes listened to her, even though he would bow to no one else. Because he feared that if he offended her, he would die, terribly and painfully.

Dumbledore was nothing compared to Helia Potter, let alone Snape.

* * *

Harry didn't have friends, but he did have fans. Helia made sure of that.

The young Malfoy was the easiest, followed by a few other Slytherin children who were only too willing to forge a connection with the talented Potter twins.

Next was Granger, who wouldn't leave them alone once she discovered that they were walking encyclopaedias of magic. Harry appreciated her zeal in learning all she could, but he did wish she would stop being so nosy and break that habit of inflicting her opinions on others without even doing a complete research first. It felt like she wasn't even trying to understand Wizarding culture.

Then there were the Weasley twins who were completely enamoured with what they found to be a fellow prankster and maker-of-mischief. While Harry did not want to waste time on trivial things like pranks, Helia convinced him that it was a creative way of teaching the other children 'lessons'.

("We're missing out on practical applications of DADA anyway, with Quirrel being the way he is," said Helia as she rigged the hallway with origami bats that were Charmed to attack anyone who walked through. The bats would then burst into stinging hot chilli sauce that would stain their skin for the rest of the day.

"As a reminder of their failure at..." Helia grinned. "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Harry would swear he did not flinch then.)

The Longbottom boy was the most pleasing to Harry's eye. He wasn't irritating and self-righteous like Granger, and he wasn't riding on the coattails of his parents like Malfoy, or loud and exuberant as the Weasley twins. He was quiet, a little shy, and had started to hang onto every word that Helia or Harry said. However, no matter how _weak_ he appeared, he wasn't _soft_.

("How is he in Gryffindor?" Harry demanded one day. Longbottom was not fearless or reckless like the others, rather, he had a healthy dose of self-preservation. He wasn't rowdy like most of the Gryffindor boys, he was silent most of the time, unobtrusive, preferring to fade into the background. And he watched. Watched like a snake.

"He's brave," said Helia with a knowing smile. "Very brave.")

There were other students too, a few from every House, that would approach them for signatures and the like. Helia had that effect on people—Harry was still getting used to charming people again, particularly children who were so very young.

Sometimes, there was conflict. It was a given, considering the enmity between the Lion and the Snake House. However, that wasn't anything he needed to bother about. Helia could stop an argument between a Muggleborn and a Noble Heir with just a few words.

* * *

"Hey Harry," said Helia. Her brother looked up from his breakfast. "Do you think I should join the Quidditch team?"

Harry wanted to point out that she has never ridden on a broom before, and that first-years wouldn't be allowed to play anyway. He also wanted to ask her why she would want to waste her time on a sport, when it was unlikely to bring her any benefit at all, aside from increasing the chances of her getting into an accident.

"Maybe you should join," Helia continued, tapping her chin with a finger.

Harry resisted the urge to scowl at her. "Why?"

"Why? To increase your fan base, of course!"

She got a baleful look in return.

Halfway through the lesson, Helia, who had years of experience in antagonising certain individuals, led Harry into a chase for his tie, which she had snatched right from his neck. The both of them were simultaneously lectured and praised for their dangerous flying before they were recommended for the Quidditch team.

Harry really should have seen this coming, given that it was Helia Potter they were talking about. There was also a reason why 'Hell' was Harry's nickname for Helia.

* * *

When Halloween came around, there was a troop of about twenty-thirty-odd students sneaking in the hallways in the lower levels of Hogwarts.

First, there was Helia, who had declared—quietly, by sending out notes to everyone—that she was going to hunt down a troll. Of course, since there was Helia, there was also Harry, who didn't even know why he was following along but someone had to be the responsible student.

Second, there was what Harry had termed as the 'Inner Circle', made up of Hermione, Neville, Draco, Pansy and Blaise.

Hermione had tagged along because she could not in good conscience let her friends run into danger just like that. Neville had followed because Helia had said that if he could face a troll and live, he could survive through the compulsory Potions education at Hogwarts. Draco had gone with them because there was no way he was going to leave the lives of the Potter twins in the hands of two Gryffindors, never mind the fact that the Potter twins could likely take care of themselves better than anyone there. Pansy had gone along because she wanted to see Harry in action, and Blaise had gone along just for the fun of it.

Only the Weasley twins, the remainder of the 'Inner Circle', and also the only pair of non-first-years, stayed behind in the Great Hall, ready to create a diversion if the whole Loose Troll in the Dungeons was not bad enough.

Other than the Potter twins and gang, there were a few first-year students from every House. Some of them treated it as a Hogwarts initiation trial, others thought that hunting a troll during Halloween sounded like a very good Halloween ExperienceTM, and still others just wanted to watch a good show… and they could then tell everyone else that they had seen the Potter twins hunt down a troll, live (there was no doubt they would succeed, of course).

The troll was down within three seconds of the students catching sight of it. In fact, some students hadn't even glimpsed the thing they could smell from a mile away before there was shrieking and flashes of lights, an almighty crash, and a reverent silence. A gigantic head rolled.

It must be said that Helia's unofficial Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons were very useful because the troll was not taken down by her and Harry alone, like one might have thought. Rather, there were at least ten wands out and it was unknown what spells each of them had cast. Draco's face was paler than it already was, and Neville's wand was trembling.

"We… We killed a troll," whispered Hannah Abbott, eyes wide and voice weak.

"We killed a troll," Terry Boot repeated, louder. He blinked his eyes, looking slightly dazed.

"WE KILLED A TROLL!" This time, it was hollered by several students, who began jumping up and down. If they had hats, they would have thrown them. It could be said that children were remarkable at turning what could have been a nightmarish experience into a memory of victory and triumph.

However, the cheering was quickly silenced by the Slytherins, who did not want any teachers to discover their misbehaviour. Very soon, everyone dispersed to sneak back to their Common Rooms, leaving the decapitated troll in a barely recognisable mess in the middle of the corridor.

Later, when Harry asked Helia what was the purpose for the whole excursion, she merely grinned and said, "I heard facing a bit of danger together is a good team-bonding exercise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some ramblings: I think it's quite obvious why I named her Helia in this fic. But if it isn't, it's because I associate her with the sun. Helia, derived from Helios. Particularly since I arranged for her Mark to be sigel, the sun-rune of protection.
> 
> Anyway, next chapter will be the last chapter I have for you guys for a long time, and it'll be up tomorrow. See ya!


	4. Act 1 Part 3: Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we continue speeding through first year. Honestly, if I ever finish writing this, it'd only be 20+ chapters, with each year taking up 2-4 chapters. But as it is... I haven't even finished the start of second year. So we shall stop with this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy the last chapter you'll get for a while :)
> 
> Oh and before I forget, my thanks to all who left comments! I may not respond to every comment because I'm just mildly peeved by the fact that there's no PM reply system here and author's comment replies are also counted in the comment count which falsely inflates numbers.

The Potter twins were going to stay in the castle for the winter break. While Harry was looking forward to having the castle emptied of noisy little gremlins, Helia was, for once, silently agonising over something. (It was usually Harry doing the brooding and agonising).

There were some who thought her moments of uncharacteristic silences were due to the traumatic experience of nearly losing Harry during the Quidditch match, but Harry knew better. He also knew enough to tell that her 'agonising' wasn't really anything that serious. He was right, of course. He might find her mysterious, but he still knew her best out of everyone else.

For one, they both knew that Harry was capable of unaided flight, which meant that even if he had fallen from his broom, he was far from being in danger. For another, they both knew that Helia was capable of Levitating _everyone_ on the pitch in mid-air if she wanted to. And lastly, Harry had seen her when he was hanging from his broomstick by one hand, and her eyes had been shining with amusement, as if she were watching something particularly entertaining.

What Harry did not know was that Helia was positively tickled by the thought of 'Harry' being not only the Boy-Who-Lived, but also the target of Quirrel the follower of Voldemort. There was some intense irony going on there. It was also her first time not being the target, so there was also the novelty of that.

What Harry also did not know was that Helia knew his birthday. His _other_ birthday. The one that would fall at the end of December. Helia had never celebrated it before—or any other birthdays, really—not in this time at least, because it wasn't like she had much resources to do so at the orphanage.

But now that they were in Hogwarts, she had money, Hogwarts house elves, access to a Room filled with hidden and forgotten items where she was sure she could find materials to make something (no, she was _not_ going to consider the Diadem as an appropriate gift).

The problem then was that Harry did not know she knew his birthday. And she had no reason to know it. As for why she wanted to celebrate his birthday, it was because it felt right, somehow. Birthdays were meant to be celebrated, and Harry wasn't her enemy, not this time. No one but she would know his birthday, which also meant that no one but she could celebrate it for him. So, it fell to her to do so.

Perhaps she could pass it off as a belated Christmas gift?

* * *

Harry gave Helia a bracelet for Christmas. It was an Ouroboros made of silver metal threads woven to form a snake swallowing its own tail. It was a strange gift, if only because Helia didn't typically wear jewellery, and nobody would have thought that Harry was the gift-giving sort of person. But he did give gifts to everyone in the 'Inner Circle' (after he recalled how much gifts could be used to curry favour with people).

Helia was not surprised she received a gift from Harry, but she was surprised to find his magic intertwining with the threads—he had crafted the bracelet himself—and the swirl of very familiar magic concentrated in the head of the Ouroboros. She was certain that if she knew the right words in Parseltongue, the snake would loosen its grip on its tail and reveal a certain black stone hidden in its mouth.

Helia too, gave Harry a stone. A ruby red stone the size of a heart that seemed to pulse with its own magic.

"For swapping with the real thing when you get your hands on it," said Helia. Harry noted she said it like it was simply matter of time before he could obtain the Philosopher's Stone. He wondered if she knew just who she was talking to. He wondered if she would still enable him to get the Stone if she knew. The Potter he had met the first time around had been very vehement in not letting him succeed.

The others gave them gifts too. The 'others' meaning everyone who was a fan of the Potter twins. Draco's was the most useful, as he had somehow managed to acquire some books of questionable legality for the two of them. The only gift Harry did not open was from the Weasley twins. He shoved them at Helia because he was never going to trust anything from them.

Harry also received the Invisibility Cloak from an anonymous person they both knew was Dumbledore. Helia was a bit miffed that it didn't go to her this time, but she supposed it was a Chosen One thing. And she was appeased by the bracelet she wore on her left hand.

It felt like a trade, an heirloom for an heirloom.

_(Hallow for Hallow.)_

They never saw the Mirror of Erised. Helia totally forgot about it until Christmas was over. She wondered what she would see in there now. She wondered what Harry would see in there.

* * *

There was a dragon in the half-giant's hut. Of course there was a dragon in the bloody—

"Harry, murder eyes," Helia reminded him. She had said dragon in her lap, curled up like a small reptilian cat.

They had finally visited Hagrid after much persuasion from Helia who had apparently been visiting the half-giant by herself. The one time that Harry had tagged along, he had been introduced to a baby dragon. In a hut made of wood.

Did that oaf ever learn his lesson? After the spiders and the expulsion? Now he keeps a bloody _dragon_?

"We're not keeping that thing," said Harry when Helia looked like she was only too happy to relieve Hagrid of his illegal little pet.

"We can give her to Draco."

"Why would we give it to Malfoy?"

"Because it's only appropriate for someone with his name to have a pet dragon."

Harry took a deep breath.

"The dragon will be the _death_ of _every- proud- white- bird_ the Malfoys have in their gardens. And his mother, and father and grandfather would be _very very upset_ with us, and you don't want that _, do you?_ "

The dragon was handed over to the Weasley twins who handed it over to their brother, a dragon keeper.

* * *

Harry managed to hold out until the end of the term, which he thought was very impressive given how much Quirrell got on his nerves.

"There's a curse on the post, he'll be gone by the end of the year," she once said in a tone that sounded less consoling and more like a threat. Who she was threatening, him or Quirrell, Harry did not know.

"If I make him mysteriously disappear, he will also be gone by the end of the year," Harry had scowled back at the too-sharp grin on her face. "It would be a fulfilment of the curse."

"After the exams," was her promise. As if exams were anything important to them. They could probably ace the tests with their eyes closed. And if she was worried about a missing teacher, well, it wasn't as if Quirrell was much of a Professor anyway. Helia's semi-regular traps and pranks seemed to teach their fellow students more than that disgusting man had in one week.

After the exams, they snuck away from the others who were debating over the right answers (it mainly featured Hermione and Draco in a competition to see who could mock the other's mistakes better).

The Cerberus was easy to get past—Helia already had a music box prepared. Harry decided not to question her foresight to bring such an item. He wouldn't be surprised if she had actually scouted the entire obstacle course before this. She certainly hasn't been perturbed when he suddenly announced earlier that afternoon that he was going to explore the forbidden corridor.

Following that was the Devil's Snare, which released them the moment she conjured a ball of blinding light.

In the room of keys, Harry snatched the right key by flying (without the broom) up to it.

The next room had a dead troll, which they ignored, proceeding to the room with the chessboard. Harry took the place of the Black King, Helia took the place of the Black Queen. She left Harry in charge of the game because for all the years she had lived, she still wasn't that great at chess. Halfway through the game, she got bored. So, after beheading a white pawn, rather than stopping, she raised the black chess sword and thoroughly decimated the remaining white pieces. Then she destroyed the black pieces as well when they turned on them.

"Nothing was stopping me from deviating from my assigned role," said Helia with a careless shrug and a faint smile, when Harry glared at her.

She left Harry to solve the Potions riddle, who, without consulting her, drank the potion that would allow him to go through the black flames and proceed towards the Stone.

When he had disappeared, Helia laughed to herself, ignored the other potion—the one that would allow her to go back—and walked right through the black fire, the Protection from her own very-faint lightning-bolt scar washing over her in streams of gold, warding off the black tongues of flame.

(There was a rule in every life she has. Only one person is ever Chosen to be her Killer, and that was Tom Marvalo Riddle. And if he fails to send her to the afterlife, she can only wait until old age ends her or Death Themself comes for her personally. They're soulmates of a sense, she supposed.)

* * *

Harry and Quirrell were facing off in front of the Mirror. Quirrell's turban was still on, so he hadn't resorted to introducing Voldemort yet. Not that it would have much effect on her 'brother'. 

Or maybe it might, maybe it'll infuriate him, seeing what a terrible state Voldemort had been in.

"I see myself as Minister of Magic," said Harry, face neutral. Helia, however, can tell it's a partial truth. She wondered what the whole truth was, though it wouldn't surprise her if he wanted to be The Minister of All Magical Countries or something ridiculous like that.

Yet, did that mean he did not see the Philosopher's Stone at all? Sure, he didn't need the Stone to transmute himself a new body, but the Stone was capable of more than that. Extended life, health, gold and riches...

Quirrell frowned once he realised that Harry had in fact not been able to see the Stone in the Mirror.

Helia stepped up behind them, quiet as a ghost while using her magic to hide her presence, and looked.

The Mirror flashed. One moment it showed her celebrating Yule with all her friends and family—all the live ones and dead ones, all the ones who knew _her_. Another moment and it showed her as Headmistress of Hogwarts, standing beside Tom, the Minister of Magic. Then finally it showed just her, just a reflection, a reflection that patted its bulging pocket with a conspiratorial smirk.

Helia looked away, suddenly aware of the Stone in her pocket—again—and realised her magic had slipped, and Quirrell and Harry were staring at her incredulously.

"You've arrived, Helia Potter," Quirrell greeted, all smooth-voice and confidence now that he wasn't pretending anymore. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up."

Harry looked like he wanted to ask her how she got through so fast, because the bottles of potions were actually set to refill itself every half an hour, but he kept quiet. He'd probably ask her later... if there was a later.

Helia ignored Quirrell, choosing to turn to Harry and said, "What's the hold-up?"

Harry blinked. Hold-up?

Then he got his answer when she whipped around, dark crimson hair flaring out behind her, and—

" _Reducto!_ "

There was an unholy shrieking, like a million voices of hell being let loose from a deflating balloon, then silence. Helia stepped aside and Harry suppressed a wince at the pile of ashes that was once a person.

"Whoops," said Helia, like she hadn't just casually murdered someone. Like she hadn't been so persistent in him not killing anyone for years now.

She looked apologetic, but Harry soon realised it wasn't because she just not-so-accidentally killed their Professor.

"Sorry, I said I'd let you kill him, but you were taking too long."

"You once warned me against... splitting souls," Harry replied with an odd tone in his voice. He wouldn't say this was a surprise, except it kind of was. Helia had never seemed like a cold-hearted person, for all her fondness for 'creative tortures', unlike him. Rather, she was the opposite. She was like... the Sun.

"Oh, that. It depends really," said Helia, but did not elaborate. She had no desire to explain the intricate rules of life and death and magic. Nor did she want to reveal that as the Master of Death, it was kind of in her job—internship?—scope to deal with people who messed with Dark Magic, such as possession. Not that she has ever done it in such a direct way before. Perhaps she should have used her Eyes instead?

With their combined effort, the twins figured out how to put the fake Stone into the Mirror. Then they Vanished the incriminating pile of ash and left the forbidden corridor as quietly as they had entered.

They passed by Dumbledore and McGonagall along the way, but Helia made sure he didn't notice them under the Cloak, even with his powerful magical capabilities. (Helia would laugh if Dumbledore thought he could ever compare with the Master of Death, particularly regarding the usage of the Gifts of Death.)

At the End of Year Feast, Slytherin won the House Cup though Ravenclaw had won the Quidditch Cup. There were no last minute points issued, no heroics to bring up, so the colours of the banners remained green for the entire feast. It was unlikely anyone but the Gryffindors minded, though some Ravenclaws were a bit miffed because Slytherin had only a few House points more than them.

It was only a long time later, when the two of them were back in their small little room in the orphanage, that Helia took out the Stone from a mokeskin pouch Harry hadn't known she had.

"Here," she said, handing it over to him with unnatural ease. "Your reward for passing through First Year."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. Will you ever get to see Second Year? Well, who knows?
> 
> And for clarification, although the term 'Headmistress' sounds very stern, I can assure you that when Hadria/Helia imagines herself as Headmistress, it's really more along the lines of Ridiculous Abuse of Power.
> 
> I once had a thought that never made it to become a fic, of Hadria being Headmistress of 'Hogwarts'. Except it's not the Hogwarts we know, because it's Hadria, and... I like the whole concept of Night Vale so so much. I swear I have a little more details about this idea written somewhere but it seems I have lost it.
> 
> Actually, I have many plot bunnies which are unpublished because they're all woefully small snippets or just straight-up a summary with no content at all.
> 
> Let me know if any of you are interested in seeing them (the ones I still haven't lost) anyway XD


	5. First Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, apparently rereading and sharing this fic has unexpectedly given me a little bit of inspiration. Hence, we now have a very short baby chapter of about 400+ words for you guys to read before I get around to finishing Act 2 Part 1.
> 
> (When will I finish Act 2 Part 1? Maybe next month. Maybe next next month. I don't know either ╮(︶▽︶)╭)
> 
> But! I have gotten back to writing Danse Macabre! So you can expect a new chapter by the end of this week.

There was a ruby-red stone that pulsed with a faint light like a heart of energy, and it was sitting in a drawer of an old wardrobe in a small orphanage. Said drawer had been Charmed and Warded so many times over, spells layered over spells, that Helia was certain if anyone tried to open it, their hand would explode clean off. Of course, Harry insisted otherwise.

Ever since he accepted the Stone from her with wide-eyed bafflement weeks ago, the boy had taken to treating the Stone like another one of his treasures. It was always kept either in his drawer or his pocket, and regardless of where it was, he would obsessively check to make sure it was still there. Whether he was checking for its continued presence or some clue that the Stone wasn't actually real, she did not know.

Helia did sometimes wonder if it had been a good idea to give the Stone to him. She was definitely going to make sure he didn't get some crazy stupid idea one day, like trying to turn the Stone into a Horcrux, for example.

Dumbledore never did come for the Stone.

Helia had made sure that the fake was realistic enough to fool him for a while, but they would find out about it when it's inevitably returned to its original owner. She also did make sure that their theft could not be traced back to them, but mistakes could always happen. She could have missed something, and Dumbledore was someone who was easily suspicious, so she wouldn't be surprised if he did somehow come to the conclusion that the Stone was with them, regardless of what evidence he might have (or not have).

But there were no visits from the old Headmaster, and no letters either. Then again, even if there had been a letter, they wouldn't know. And they certainly did not receive the newspaper they had subscribed to—Harry had been quite peeved about it, and had even sent Hedwig (Helia insisted on the name) to demand an explanation but received none—so they would not know if the missing Stone ever made it to the news.

So, the Stone remained with Harry, unused. They were, after all, still very young and healthy, and had no need for Elixirs of Life. They, too, had a lot of inheritance, and had no need for more gold. But perhaps one of them might find a use for it one day. It was, after all, quite a priceless Psuedo-Divine Artifact.

(And yes, Helia might have tried out one too many Muggle games at some point in her life.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all! Yes, it's very short. Act 2 will begin with Dobby's 'debut', when I finally get around to writing it.
> 
> Some other ramblings: In my Danse-Macabre-verse-and-related-worlds, the Deathly Hallows are also called Death's Invitation (the Elder Wand), Temptation (the Resurrection Stone), and Freedom (the Invisibility Cloak). Some of you might find these terms familiar because I mentioned them in Danse Macabre before (specifically the New Prophecy). Just a head's up that I may use these terms as well sometime later on in this story.
> 
> Edit: Earlier, I had a poll because I couldn't decide on the twins' Quidditch roles, and the results are... (drumroll...) Both Beaters, the Ravenclaw version of the Weasley Twin Terrors!


End file.
